


Prompt 45: "Do you trust me?"

by asexualizing (Specialcookies)



Series: Phrase Prompts [4]
Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: F/F, Smut, as pretty much always they get Emo, post-prison reunion smut!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 09:57:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16038116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Specialcookies/pseuds/asexualizing
Summary: Five years, eight months, twelve days. Eight years away from Lou. Three thousand days withoutthis.





	Prompt 45: "Do you trust me?"

**Author's Note:**

> to the anon who asked for this on tumblr, i hope you like it! <3

It happens _fast_. One moment Debbie is sitting on the kitchen table, legs dangling back and forth, watching Lou as she does the dishes, listening to her talk about her plans for California, and the next moment, Lou’s between her legs, one hand on the table, the other in Debbie’s hair, looking straight into Debbie’s eyes, asking: okay? Then kissing Debbie before Debbie manages to get to the end of her approval. 

Okay, there might have been a different conversation in between, but Debbie can’t bother. It went something along the lines of:

“This place’s huge.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re not gonna be here.”

“I’ll come back.”

“And until then?”

“Get the heating on full power, we have the money.”

“How’s that gonna help?”

“I don’t know, maybe say what you actually mean.”

“That I am going to miss you?”

“Yeah.”

“And think about you?”

“Yeah.”

“And wish you were here so I could -- “

So it happens fast, but even faster than that they find themselves in Lou’s room -- Debbie’s shirt half undone and loosened from her pants, Lou’s vest long gone -- standing somewhere between the door and the bed, lips locked. Debbie had, for a brief moment there, other plans in mind for how this should go; but Lou has a thigh between Debbie’s own, and she’s _pressing_ it against her, and her hand wanders underneath Debbie’s shirt, fingers ghosting over hot skin, and Debbie’s gone far too quickly. She can’t help the movement of her hips, rubbing herself against Lou’s thigh, breathing heavily into Lou’s mouth, mind going blurry at the seams.

Lou’s other hand is in the mess that had become of Debbie’s hair, occasionally pulling hard enough for Debbie to feel it, every time driving Debbie’s hips to grind in a faster rhythm.

It happens _fast_. Debbie moans as Lou’s fingers find her nipple underneath the thin fabric of her bra, and suddenly five years, eight months, and twelve days catch up with her. Eight years away from Lou. Three thousand days without _this_. She’s so close she can practically taste her first orgasm in six years, and Lou presses her thigh more firmly against where Debbie is so, so, so wet, slides her tongue against Debbie’s, and she _can’t_.

She turns her head to bite at Lou’s shoulder, pants through her nose, shaking violently with how hard she’s working to keep herself still. “Shit,” she hisses, soothes the mark her teeth left on Lou with her tongue, and Lou releases a soft, almost inaudible sound, asks: “You’re close?” as she brings her head out from Debbie’s shirt and to her jawline.

Debbie nods and leans her forehead against Lou. She’s too old for this. “Sorry,” she says, still shaking, closes her legs and pushes Lou’s thigh away. “It’s just… It’s been a while… “

Lou shakes her head, turns Debbie’s head so she can kiss her. “Do you trust me?” she asks, peppers Debbie’s lips with wet pecks.

Debbie can’t answer that. Not with words. There isn’t a single person on earth that she trusts more than Lou, that she trusts as blindly as she trusts Lou, that her mind won't run circles of doubt around, ever. That is more important than she can possibly express. She sighs deeply, presses her lips more firmly against Lou’s hopes that her fingers on Lou’s neck are doing an adequate job at communicating for her what her weak “yeah” cannot.

Lou’s hands come to her front, start working on the button and zipper of her pants. “Let’s get these off,” she murmurs. Debbie sags against her solid body.

“I won’t last,” she warns, hips jutting forewards as Lou starts to pull the pants down.

“And I’ve got no plans for tonight,” Lou answers.

Laughing weakly, helping Lou get the fabric off her, Debbie says: “We aren’t twenty anymore. We aren’t even thirty.”

“We don’t need to be.”

Debbie spreads her legs a little once again, lets Lou slide a hand between them. “God, you’re soaking,” she breathes as she runs her fingers over Debbie’s cunt, and Debbie gasps, holds onto Lou’s shoulders. Then Lou falls to her knees, hooking two fingers under the band of Debbie’s panties and pulls them down slowly. Debbie can barely breathe, let alone hold herself up, and it’s a lucky thing that Lou quickly wraps two arms around her waist before planting a kiss on Debbie’s clit.

_Shit._

“Lou, Lou,” Debbie says frantically, threading fingers in Lou’s hair, running them over her cheeks and jaw and neck. “I can’t. I can’t stay up.”

“Okay, okay.” Lou kisses her way up to Debbie’s abdomen, looks at Debbie below her lashes. “Let’s get you on the bed.”

Debbie has no idea how Lou manages to get up with so much of her own weight on her, but she does, and she pushes Debbie gently until she’s at the edge of the bed, where she sits, trying to level out her breath, slow her heart down.

It’s a futile attempt as Lou falls back on her knees, hooks Debbie’s right leg over her shoulder, runs her palm over the inside of her thigh, and before Debbie has any chance of gathering herself back into a human-like state, Lou runs a finger through her slick folds and brings it up to run circles over her clit.

She falls back -- high-pitched, staccato sounds leaving her mouth with every exhale as Lou works her up rhythmically, insistently. She grabs Lou’s blanket between two fists and brings it over her mouth, biting hard on it, arches her back and lets the sensations wash over her.

Five years, eight months, twelve days. Eight years away from Lou. Three thousand days without _this_. There are tears stinging her eyes with how good it feels -- Lou’s finger on her clit, her palm warm at the inside of her thigh, her lips just a breath away from touching -- and it happens fast.

Her hands grapple at the blanket, fisting it, pulling at it, and she can faintly hear Lou speaking as she comes, completely taken over by it: _here you are, honey. Beautiful. You’re beautiful. God, you’re beautiful._

Coming down from her orgasm doesn’t feel like coming down at all. Lou holds her through the intensity of it, soothes her with a warm mouth, but as she’s about to pull away, Debbie finds that she wouldn’t like that, at all, her nerves still singing. She sinks her heel where it rests against Lou’s back to keep her close, says her name in a strangled voice.

“Oh,” Lou breathes, and before Debbie can do anything but push her hips up in a silent request, Lou’s mouth is on her, tongue sliding teasingly against her labia, dips inside her, up, up, and when she presses the tip lightly against Debbie’s clit, it’s like she didn’t just come at all.

Debbie’s open, free in a way she hadn’t felt since she stepped foot in her holding cell, exposed in a way that only ever felt good with Lou, and Lou pushes one finger inside of her, feeling out the grounds, careful, gentle; then, when Debbie moans weakly and spreads her legs as far as she can while still keeping one on Lou’s shoulder, another, treats Debbie with firmer strokes.

It’s almost an afterthought, almost too natural to truly mind. She’d thrown the blanker off her, slid lower and closer to Lou’s mouth, and she’s desperate, she realizes that, but she couldn’t care about a goddamn thing, at the moment, as her second orgasm builds and builds inside of her.

While the first orgasm was heightened with suppression, now she floats, light, and the only thing that grounds her is the flat of Lou’s tongue, undulating against her clit, while her fingers push and withdraw and crook inside of Debbie, while she moans against Debbie’s cunt.

“Lou,” Debbie says again, the name falling off her lips, can’t believe she has _this_ again.

Lou squeezes where her hand still rests on Debbie’s inner thigh -- reassurance for herself or for Debbie, Debbie’s not sure.

She’s close, again, her body undulating, synced with Lou’s tongue, and it isn’t _fast_ , this time, feels like it’s been building and building for ages, but it’s not less urgent. She brings her hands to Lou’s hair, just stroking, stroking, and Lou pulls her mouth away, keeps her fingers working, pants hot and quick against Debbie: “Let go for me, jailbird. Come on, let go.”

Debbie whines, scratches at Lou’s scalp, making Lou pant even harder, then Lou takes her clit between her lips, sucks while her tongue flicks and flicks against it, and Debbie stops breathing, eyes rolling to the back of her head, comes again for what feels like three thousand days without _this_.

Lou licks her through the aftershocks, pulls her fingers out carefully, until Debbie groans and pushes her away. She lets Debbie’s leg fall off her shoulder, runs two hands over Debbie’s thighs, hips, stomach.

“Alright?” she asks, bends to press a kiss to the side of Debbie’s knee. Debbie nods, beyond words, stares at the ceiling for one moment, two, three, and Lou stays with her, waits.

“The next one,” she presses to words to Debbie’s skin, like she can’t get enough of it under her mouth, “I’ll take my time with.”

All that Debbie can do it laugh, breathless. She focuses on the rise and fall of her chest, the slight, cool breeze against her hot skin, breathes in, breathes out. Lou presses another kiss to the juncture between her thigh and hips, and Debbie _wants_ her, God, she just _wants_ her.

She reaches out for her, and Lou notices, takes hold of her hands and helps her up until they’re facing each other, Debbie at the edge of the bed, Lou still on her knees, and Debbie kisses her, deep, deep, deeper, hands cradling her head.

Lou’s fingers come between their lips, into Debbie’s mouth, and Lou watches her, wide-eyed as Debbie cleans them. Debbie holds her gaze as Lou whispers: “Oh, fuck,” and pulls her fingers out, brings their lips back together. “Get up,” Debbie says, runs her hand over Lou’s collarbone. Lou sighs heavily, takes Debbie’s hand between two of hers and squeezes, doesn’t get up, leans closer and into their kiss. “Come on, get up,” Debbie repeats, dragging her lips down to Lou’s neck, where she nips teasingly. 

“Deb,” Lou breathes out her name, head falling to the side and against Debbie’s shoulder. Her fingers, still gripping Debbie’s palm, scratch restlessly at her skin.

“I want to taste you.”

Lou exhales shakily, then starts getting up, reluctantly letting go of Debbie’s hand, but soon enough clearing hair off Debbie’s face as Debbie kisses her stomach. Debbie holds her gaze as she dips her tongue slowly into her belly-button, and Lou tries, Debbie can see that she tries very hard, but her eyes flutter shut and her head dips forwards as she bites her lip.

“Take it off,” Debbie tugs at Lou’s bra, and while Lou unclasps it, Debbie works her pants down, brushing her nose against Lou’s cotton-covered labia. She brings one hand to Lou’s ass, the other up to her breasts; pulls at Lou’s underwear with her teeth until Lou squirms and gets out of them.

The first taste has her groaning. 

Lou’s hands are back in her hair, clearing the mess of it away from Debbie’s face as Debbie laps at her, and the sounds she’s releasing are faint, as pretty as music could be, and Debbie pushes her closer, laps fast and soft. God, how she _wants_ her -- standing as her right-hand, partner, while committing a crime, but spreading her legs and letting Debbie eat her out, too. Mumbling encouragements and pleading. Arching her back and pulling at Debbie’s hair.

“Deb,” she repeats her name, “Deb,” tries to pull Debbie’s head back.

Debbie goes, licks her lips while looking up at Lou to find her staring down in complete awe, her thumb stroking Debbie’s jaw.

“It’s easier to touch you,” Lou murmurs, and Debbie brings up her hand to cover Lou’s on her jaw, turns her mouth to kiss the inside of her palm. She doesn’t exactly understand.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not exactly sure. It’s -- been so long, and when you touch me it’s -- “

“Too much?”

“Maybe.”

Debbie kisses her way to the inside of Lou’s wrist, and they stay there like that, almost completely still, breathing heavily, for long moments.

Then Lou curls her fingers, takes a step closer. “When I’ll come back…”

Debbie looks up at her, sees something from way too long ago in her eyes. “I’ll be here,” she tells it. “I’m gonna miss you, and think about you, and wish you were here so I could do exactly -- “ she places a wet kiss to Lou’s wrist -- “that.” Lou closes her eyes, nods, brings her hand back into Debbie’s hair.

Debbie leans forwards, kisses a line on Lou’s abdomen, up, up. “Do you trust me?” she asks, and her throat is closing because she’s not certain Lou still does.

“Surprisingly,” Lou inhales, stomach sucked in under Debbie’s lips. “I’ve never stopped.”

Debbie could cry out in relief, but all she does is suck a mark right under Lou’s ribs. Lou does cry out, pushes Debbie’s head closer to her body. “I’ll be here,” she says again. “I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [tumblr](https://straperine.tumblr.com/) if you want me!


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